


First love

by kaige68



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Community: 1_million_words, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 10:18:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2147010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaige68/pseuds/kaige68
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur brings flowers to his mentor's grave</p>
            </blockquote>





	First love

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://1-million-words.livejournal.com/)**1_million_words** Weekend Challenge. Prompt was _Dear shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: 'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' - William Shakespeare, As You Like It, 3.5_. This is where my brain went.
> 
> Warning for minor character death.

The flowers felt trite in his hands as he stood in front of the grave. When he’d gotten through customs with his fake passport, flowers had seemed right, fitting. Arthur shrugged and placed the bow tied irises and statice on front of the headstone. The card still felt right, regardless. He stepped back and thought about his memories of the man now dead.

It wasn’t five minutes later that his quiet reverie was interrupted.

“Darling, you arrived on the passport I made you. I’m flattered.” Eames stepped around Arthur. He squatted down, reaching forward to trace Miles’ name on the stone. “You knew I’d follow you.”

“I expected it.” Arthur took in the man in front of him. The unfortunate clothing choices that still looked good on Eames. The tanned skin that said Eames had recently been in warmer climes. The dark color under the man’s eyes that meant sleep still eluded him. “You probably knew when I left the States.”

Eames smiled wanly, nodded. He picked up Arthur’s flowers as he stood. “Wisdom and remembrance? Arthur, you’re a poet.” He looked thoughtful when Arthur didn’t respond, then plucked at the card. “ _Dear shepherd, now I find thy saw of might: 'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?'_ Not at all what I expected.” Eames met Arthur’s eyes with a surprised face.

“It was what Miles said when we met, when he was hooked me up to the PASIV for the first time.”

“He knew you’d be addicted in one go, eh?” Eames nodded again. “Mal told me that she found you in that programme.”

Arthur finally smiled. “No, Miles did. I passed the Army’s psych eval, then Miles’. He brought me in.”

“And just like Marlowe and Shakespeare, the student outshone the mentor.” Eames set the flowers down gently where he’d found them.

“Flattery, Mister Eames. What are you hoping for?” Arthur crossed his arms over his chest, one brow arched in question, but the rest of his body language spoke invitingly.

Eames reached out, hand cupping Arthur’s face, thumb stroking his jaw. “Everything, Darling. I always want it all.” His grin was bordering on lecherous as he led Arthur from the cemetery.


End file.
